Education has been a significant part of the “American dilemma” described by Myrdal (1944) because equal education has been just as elusive as equal justice, equal voting rights, and equal opportunity in general. Thus, multicultural education was an attempt to change the educational outcomes of African American and other children long denied an equal educa-tion. In order to do so, it had to challenge the deficit discourses that rendered communities of color – especially African American, Latino/a, American Indian, and some Asian American groups – as lacking in culture, devaluing education, and as completely responsible for the educational failure of its children.

Dynamic High had a mythical reputation in the district and state. Ten years ago, it was almost shut down because neither students nor teachers wanted to be at the school. The third floor of the school was closed because of poor attendance and dilapidated facilities. Students were violent, did not listen to teachers or administrators, and basically ruled the school. Since the mid-1990s the school has undergone a major change. The staff acknowledged that the major changes was attributable to the leadership of the current principal, Mr. Gibson. During my study, Dynamic was described as a “model” school, one of the top two most desirable schools in the district for both teachers and students. An overwhelming number of the teachers and staff members at the school emphasized and applauded the school for its progressiveness, aca-demics, and leadership. The school was doing so well that schools from neighboring states sent their staff members to learn about its programs and organizational structures.

The disproportionate representation of students of color in special education has been a concernabout the education of students from low-income families for many years. Low-income studentsare more often identified in subjective disability categories, such as emotional disability andintellectual disability, and more frequently placed in separate classrooms. Further, after beingidentified in this manner, these pupils tend to be placed in classrooms where academic outcomesare worse, expectations for success are lower, and the stigma associated with special education ishigher (Schifter, Grindal, Schwartz, & Hehir, 2019). They are also frequently placed in classroomswith teachers who have less expertise in math, English, and science. These circumstances haveraised concerns about systemic racial bias because low-income children are more likely to bestudents of color (Tatter, 2019)

The Sadkers observed hundreds of classes and watched as girls typi-cally raised their hands, arms bent at the elbow in a cautious, tentative, almost passive gesture. At other times they pause or stop to think before raising their arms straight and high. Educator Diana Meehan calls this phenomenon the "girl pa use": If a teacher asks a question, a girl pa uses to think, Do I know this? Meanwhile, a boy blurts out an answer, and the class moves on. 2 In contrast, when boys raise their hands, they fling them wildly in the air, up and down, up and down, again and again. Sometimes these hand signals are accompanied by strange noises, "Ooh! Ooh! Me! Me! Ooooh!" Occasionally they even stand beside or on top of their seats and wave one or both arms to get attention. "Ooh! Me! Mrs. Smith, call on me." In the social studies class about presidents, we saw boys as a group grabbing attention while girls as a group were left out of the action.

The gendered nature of the classroom compromise can be subtle and is often ignored. Male students frequently control classroom conversa-tion. They ask and answer more questions. They receive more praise for the intellectual quality of their ideas. They get criticized more publicly and harshly when they break a rule. They get help when they are con-fused. They are the heart and center of interaction. Watch how boys dominate the discussion about presidents in this upper elementary class. The fifth-grade class is almost out of control. "Just a minute," the teacher admonishes. "There are too many of us here to all shout out at once. I want you to raise your hands, and then I'll call on you. If you shout out, I'll pick somebody else." Order is restored. Then Stephen, enthusiastic to make his point, calls out.

In May and June 2001, and again from May 2007 to December 2008, I sat in on classes and attended campus assemblies, graduations, and meet-ings. Working with several students from the Claremont Colleges, I inter-viewed over 50 teachers, counselors, and parents; but most of my time was spent listening to students. Across from tables, gathered around benches, and sitting in circles, in 50- to 75-minute interviews, we asked 139 students about their schooling, friendships, and future plans. The interview questions were broad and open-ended, allowing students to share their experiences in ways that were meaningful for them. As a result, students provided a range of testimonials about peer groups and high school life, some highlighting the institutional and daily constraints in school connected to gender and sexual-ity. For this chapter, I focus on these aspects of the interviews, specifi cally centering on the 46 interviews with Latina students. With the exception of a few of the interviews, most were audiotaped, transcribed, and then ana-lyzed for recurring themes and patterns. The quotations appearing through-out this chapter are verbatim from the transcripts, but as is the custom in qualitative research the names of the participants and their school have been changed.

The role of family cars was also a surprise, given the descriptions in the literature of poor families’ reliance on public transportation (Neuman, 2009). As we engaged with the families, it became clear that an important aspect of the parents’ mediating role was driving Benny and Miguel to places beyond their neighborhoods where spaces were constructed. The fact that both families had cars seems consistent with the identification of their neighborhoods as low income but not without resources or character-ized by a concentrated level of poverty.

As noted, variations were revealed. Although the literacy practices of the boys were similar in some ways, they were distinct in others. The syncretiz-ing of literacies across multiple spaces was most clearly evident, for example, in Benny’s practices as he studied maps in school, online, and in his bedroom; created maps in his notebook; and looked for books with maps with his grandmother in the secondhand store. Similarly, he explored the lyrics of hymns and Justin Bieber songs online, in his bedroom, and in church and read Bible stories in Spanish and English in both spaces. His drawing of himself reading in his bedroom expressed his comfort and enjoyment as he explored his interests in his own literacy space.

In contrast, both to the stereotype that there are few literacy resources in low-income homes and to studies such as Neuman and Celano’s (2001) that found few “reading materials” in such neighborhoods, this investigation found that the boys and their families had created rich literacy spaces that reflected their lives and interests. In addition to workbooks, worksheets, and books brought from school for homework, the families had books of their own, library books, newspapers, folders of student awards and report cards, school and city notices and questionnaires, advertising flyers, lists, cook-books and recipes, games with instructions, photo albums, Bibles and reli-gious books, televisions and TV schedules, soccer magazines, computers, videotapes, electronic games, CD players and CDs, iPods, and global posi-tioning system (GPS) devices among others.

Benny lived with his 4-year-old brother and grandmother who became his legal guardian when he was an infant and his mother was charged with neglect. A church sister and her three children shared their small apartment for several months and extended family members lived nearby. Benny’s grandmother, Doña5 Nydia Santos, had received her high school diploma in Puerto Rico and had moved to the mainland about 25 years before. She spoke English with ease. Benny was fluent in Spanish and English, and the family spoke primarily Spanish among themselves. In school, Benny was eligible for the free lunch for low-income families. Participation in a Spanish Pentecostal church was at the center of the family’s life

Getting a driver’s license, securing a fi rst job, starting college, going to bars and clubs, and voting mark one’s entry into the legal world of adulthood. However, for those who have grown up in the U.S. but do not have legal sta-tus, these very ideals they have grown up believing in become increasingly out of their reach, thus leaving them vulnerable to the consequences of their “illegality”. As undocumented immigrant students reach these important American milestones, they must learn the hard lessons of what it means to be undocumented. Equally important, they must deal with the stress and stigma that accompanies their new status. Negotiating separation among their community of peers, friends, and classmates is all the more diffi cult, as undocumented immigrant youth must make decisions about whether to reveal or conceal their status.

It is important to note that school success or failure often hinges upon whether school offi cials create a culture that facilitates positive interactions among students, teachers, and staff (Conchas 2006; Pizarro 2005). When teachers take time and effort to assist students, they can be an important source of social capital (Croninger and Lee 2001). Such teacher-based forms of social capital reduce the probability of students dropping out and help stu-dents who come from socially disadvantaged backgrounds or who have had academic diffi culties in the past. Schools can also structure peer environments to promote academic achievement (Gibson, Gándara, and Peterson-Koyama 2004). This is particularly important for students who have less information about how schools and the broader society allocate resources and opportu-nity. However, when schools treat their students as outsiders they diminish their chances for success and close off avenues for counseling and assistance

In addition to the limited access to fi nancial aid opportunities, undocu-mented students are barred from participating in federally funded programs, such as TRIO and work-study. 3 Both of these programs are designed to assist low-income, fi rst-generation, and ethnic minority students. Because these programs receive federal funds, undocumented students are not entitled to participate. Despite the fact that an overwhelming majority of undoc-umented students fi t this description, they are ineligible for these critical services (Gonzales 2010). Additionally, exclusion from work-study limits students’ support systems on campus. Taken together, the inability to receive fi nancial aid and the exclusion from federally funded sources of support place undocumented students on a diffi cult path towards higher education.

Our aim in this chapter is to explore the ways in which undocumented immigration status constrains interactions with school structures, cultures, and practices. 1 Whereas most studies focus on academic achievers, we turn our attention to a broader portion of this population that is not tracked for school success and examine the ways in which immigration policies and educational practices conspire to narrowly circumscribe their options. Undocumented immigrant students are particularly vulnerable and have arguably greater needs than their citizen peers. Legal and fi nancial con-straints not only erect numerous barriers but also create added layers of need in navigating the successful completion of high school and the transition to college. However, many of these students face challenges forging relation-ships with teachers and counselors who can provide access to important resources.

It is not surprising, then, that the second generation tends to have higher academic achievement, better experiences in the labor market, and higher income levels than the newcomers. Yet the foreign-born generation has some advantages over the second generation. For example, there is evi-dence to suggest that in several areas of well-being and health, immigrants are better off than the second generation. Indeed, babies born to immi-grant mothers tend to be healthier than second-generation babies, and im-migrant children are less likely to be obese, to experiment with drugs and alcohol, or to engage in a host of other risky behaviors. This is paradoxical because immigrants tend to have higher levels of poverty and less educa-tion than their U.S.-born peers. Yet the data suggest that while the second generation has an educational and economic edge over the first generation, such advantages may not spill over to broader considerations of health and well-being.6

To gain a more complete understanding of the experience of immigra-tion, we designed a study that is unlike any other in the field today. Our study focuses exclusively on the experiences of recently arrived foreign-born youth and their families. It does not confound that experience with the realities of the second generation or of those who arrive as babies or as very young children (the so-called 1.5 generation). All of the participants in our study were born abroad, had parents who were born in the same country, and had developed a clear sense of identity rooted in their na-tional origin prior to migration to the United States. When our study be-gan, our participants had spent at least two-thirds of their lives in their country of origin and spoke a native language other than English upon ar-rival. This study captures the realities of those youth who are contending with the profound changes of moving to a new country, with all that im-plies: culture shock, linguistic disorientation, the loss of old relationships, as well as the excitement of blazing a path to a new horizon.

Clearly, if we are to expect newcomer students to learn English, as they and we would like them to, our schools need to do a better job of develop-ing educational contexts that will make it happen. Our focus at the begin-ning of the study was very student-centered; we considered the resources the students brought with them, the engagement they brought to the task, as well as the educational contexts they encountered. But while these fac-tors certainly contribute to language acquisition, the schools also play a fundamental role in whether students learn English. Our findings parallel those of Gary Orfield, Guadalupe Valdes, Laurie Olsen, and others who have insightfully described the intense physical and linguistic segregation that many newcomer immigrant students encounter. 54 While there have been some attempts to address the needs of students coming in at the ele-mentary level, there has been a lamentable and disconcerting absence of ef-forts to meet the needs of English-language learners arriving at the second-ary school level.55 This gap absolutely needs to be addressed if we wish to harness the energies of all of our newcomer students.

Relationships are critical to the process, and it is in schools that immi-grant youth forge new friendships, create and solidify social networks, and begin to acquire the academic, linguistic, and cultural knowledge that will sustain them throughout their journey. It is not only in the classroom but also in the schoolyard, on field trips, and on the bus ride to and from home that they will struggle to learn the English language that is so necessary for their success in the United States. Immigrant students, new to the Ameri-can system, will be heavily reliant on school personnel-teachers, counsel-ors, coaches, and others-to guide them in the steps necessary to success-fully complete their schooling and, perhaps, go on to college.

Paul Pham related a similar patt ern of expectations among students: if “a person with a completely diff erent background” joined a class or activity that was “mostly Asian,” “that person would actually receive a lot of att ention— positive att ention,” simply for showing up at something conceived to be out of the ordinary for a Latina/o.56 Although Paul inter-preted this to have a positive meaning, a more troubling interpretation, in accordance with Claude Steele’s concept of disidentifi cation, would be the following: if someone who was “diff erent” (i.e., non- Asian) joined an AP class or a challenging extracurricular activity, she would be greeted with surprise and praise for exceeding expectations of low achievement. Devalued with the stigma of low expectations from the outset, the student would grow increasingly likely to disengage with academics, unless this patt ern was interrupted by mentors or other factors that recognized and nurtured her abilities and potential.

In recent decades, numerous school systems have become increasingly atten-tive to the mental health needs of students and provide more counseling services. However, such mental health counselors may often be ill-equipped to deal with students of color. School counselors with heads full of conventional racial and ethnic stereotypes can be a problem. Violet, a multiracial Asian American who is part Latino, is a member of one of the few Asian families in her city. (Her state does have numerous areas densely populated with Asian Americans.) She reports being invisible as an Asian American and that she has often been grouped by local whites with Mexican Americans. A white counselor at her high school attempted to “reach out” and help students of color by taking them for one visit (and only one) to a local community college for a tour to “inspire” them to go to college

Most school systems seem to allow much racist teasing. Respondents who protested to teachers were usually told not to take racial taunting seriously. Young Asian Americans are told to thicken their skin, while white and other non-Asian children are often allowed to continue. The parents of tormented students are frequently fearful about complaining of racial taunting and teasing and do not want to “cause trouble” or generate white retaliation. In this era of school multiculturalism, many administrators encourage teachers to celebrate diversity in classrooms, and this superficial “be happy” multiculturalism may sometimes reduce their ability to see the impact of such racist treatment on students of color, as well as the underlying reality of institutionalized racism in their educational institutions

Discrimination persists in many institutional areas. The astute scholar Gary Okihiro sums up the contemporary Asian American situation this way: Whites have “upheld Asians as ‘near-whites’ or ‘whiter than whites’ in the model minority stereotype, and yet Asians have experienced and continue to face white racism ‘like blacks’ in educational and occupational barriers and ceilings and in anti-Asian abuse and physical violence. This marginalization of Asians, in fact, within a black and white racial formation, ‘disciplines’ both Africans and Asians and constitutes the essential site of Asian American oppression.”56Chou & Feagin 2ed.indb 197/3/14 1:07 PM

In addition, a U.S. animation company made a cartoon (Mr. Wong) and placed at its center an extreme caricature of a Chinese “hunchbacked, yellow-skinned, squinty-eyed character who spoke with a thick accent and starred in an interactive music video titled Saturday Night Yellow Fever.”24 Again Asian American and other civil rights groups protested this anti-Asian mocking, but many whites and a few Asian Americans inside and outside the entertainment industry defended such racist cartoons as “only good humor.” Similarly, the makers of a puppet movie, Team America: World Police, portrayed a Korean political leader speaking gibberish in a mock Asian accent. One Asian American commentator noted the movie was “an hour and a half of racial mockery with an ‘if you are offended, you obviously can’t take a joke’ tacked on at the end.”25 Moreover, in an episode of the popular television series Desperate Housewives a main character, played by actor Teri Hatcher, visits a physician for a medical checkup. Shocked that the doctor suggests she may be going through menopause, she replies, “Okay, before we go any further, can I check these diplomas? Just to make sure they aren’t, like, from some med school in the Philippines.” This racialized stereotyping was protested by many in the Asian and Pacific Islander communities

Our argument here is not that Asian Americans are distinctively prone to seri-ous mental illness or violence. Rather, we accent in this book the institutionally racist situations in which Asian Americans find themselves—those highly pres-sured situations that create much stress and deeply felt pain. One major societal problem is that Asian Americans are typically viewed and labeled as “model minorities” by outsiders, especially by whites with power over them. This highly stereotyped labeling creates great pressure to conform to the white-dominated culture, usually in a one-way direction